


Brown Boxes

by AshesTheTerrible



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Dildos, M/M, Masturbation, Moving In Together, Secrets, Sex Toys, Toying, domestic AU, odd collections, odd habits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 07:52:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4513989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesTheTerrible/pseuds/AshesTheTerrible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack always knew Rhys was an odd kid. He does odd things and has odd habits. When Jack asks Rhys to move in with him, everything is great...until the little brown boxes start showing up at their door. </p><p>Little brown boxes that Rhys never opens in front of Jack. </p><p>Little brown boxes that Jack just can't figure out. </p><p>Several times a week the little brown boxes show up for Rhys and even though Jack knows he shouldn't open them and should respect Rhys' privacy...he finally can't stand it anymore.</p><p>Jack just has to know what is in those little brown boxes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brown Boxes

**Author's Note:**

> This was such a self indulgent mess of a short fic. Sorry ahead of time lol.

Rhys is an odd kid. Like a really odd kid. He sleeps with too many blankets and three pillows exactly, one for his head, one to fit between his legs and one to wrap his arms around. He loved to eat tomatoes sprinkled with salt and pepper, thinly sliced to perfection yet he turned his nose up at tomato sauce and ketchup. Jack had never in his entire life seen somebody eat spaghetti _without_ the tomato sauce, but there was a first time for everything he guessed. Rhys was happy just slathering the noodles in butter and salt and eating it that way. Honestly Jack couldn’t even watch the kid eat it like that, it gagged him just thinking about it. Spaghetti without the spaghetti sauce was _not_ spaghetti. In fact the two men had gone round and round with that argument too many times to count anymore.

The odd habits had only become more pronounced since Jack had asked the kid to move in with him. After months of your place, my place, things migrating back and forth between the two Jack had grown tired of it. Jack had played it off as no big deal when he first asked the young man to move in with him, but Rhys knew it was a big feat for the man with a tin can for a heart to take such a step. Jack had claimed he was tired of not having Rhys around to fuck whenever he wanted and that was the main reason behind wanting the kid to move in…but Rhys new better. Jack hid behind words so he didn’t have to actually seem like he needed anybody other than himself. But Rhys knew that wasn’t the case. There had been many late night calls from Jack’s end and though he’d never said it, Rhys knew he was lonely and simply wanted to hear Rhys’ voice.

So Rhys’ things had mingled with Jack’s and the combining of the worlds had felt so strange at first. Now there was an assortment of one too many shampoos and body washes in the shower where when Jack had lived alone there had just been a bar of soap and a three in one shampoo, conditioner and body wash. There were two jugs of milk in the fridge now because Rhys refused to drink anything other than that skim milk shit and there were about thirty souvenir mugs in the cabinets that weren’t there before. Jack had no idea why the kid needed so many cheesy, ridiculous mugs, but he found his coffee served up in a different one each morning and it was endearing in a stupid little way. Rhys is particular with his laundry and Jack eventually gives up trying to be nice and wash _any_ of the kid’s clothing because he always ends up shrinking Rhys’ ‘all time favorite shirt’ or washing something white with red and rendering it a light pink in the end.

The kid is obsessed with disgusting reality shows, and Jack finds his entire television recorder is filled with the crap. Rhys dances around the kitchen when he cooks and he acts like he doesn’t know Jack always watches him with keen eyes, but Jack knows he does it on purpose. The kid had a motion to those skinny hips that would have any sane man’s eyes dancing along with the rhythm. Rhys buys more chap-sticks than anyone on earth and then loses them in about a day’s time. Jack finds that the cylindrical little sticks now randomly show up in couch cushions, underneath beds, in dresser drawers, underneath car seats and it’s weird. Really, really weird.

But Jack adjusts to all the other man’s little quirks. They keep things interesting around the home and with Rhys around the big space feels considerably less… _empty._ Jack will never admit out loud how much he enjoys having the kid around. He likes the fighting over who is doing the dishes that night, and he _loves_ the inevitable fact that Rhys will end up shoved against the sink with his athletic shorts around his ankles and Jack’s dick buried in his ass even more. Jack likes the way Rhys sleeps in Jack’s shirts and refuses to admit he needs glasses so he constantly takes Jack’s cheaters instead, saying he just needs to borrow them really quickly. Rhys has weird phrases that get shoved casually into conversation and some of them Jack is pretty sure Rhys just makes up because there is no way in hell that those are _real_ sayings.

Everyday Jack felt like he was adding more to the long list of weird things Rhys did, most he’d just shake his head at and mentally jot them down without a second thought…but there is one thing, one weird fact that Jack simply can’t stop thinking about. No matter how hard he tries he can’t simply leave it alone. Jack normally didn’t try to figure out why Rhys did the things he did. There often wasn’t even a real reason behind them. But this…this was just…strange. Even for Rhys’ standards.

The brown boxes.

It had started the very first week Rhys had moved in with Jack, the first Saturday after they had finally moved all the various loads of Rhys’ belongings into Jack’s condo and there was finally a day for them to just _rest._

That was when the first box came.

Rhys’ apartment had been a _mess._ It had taken five days, countless trips from Rhys’ apartment to the condo, and too many goddamned cardboard moving boxes. Jack didn’t even _know_ one person could possibly manage to shove that much shit into a one bedroom apartment. The two men had been sprawled across the couch, both stripped down to their boxers and ragged shirts, bodies exhausted from too many days of hauling Rhys’ things, eyes trained to the television, mindlessly watching one of Rhys’ trash shows. Jack had been too tired to even try and protest the shitty reality show. At that point he was too tired to care. Rhys had his head propped up on one of the decorative couch pillows that he’d bought for Jack’s living room, laid halfway across Jack’s lap when the doorbell rang.

Before Jack could even get halfway through his groan of displeasure Rhys was popping up off the couch and scrambling across the living room, through the front entry way and to the door. Jack had just watched in confusion as Rhys had flung the door open to reveal a slightly startled UPS worker holding a sizeable rectangular plain brown package.

“Mr. Rhys?” The worker had asked and Jack had furrowed his eyebrows harder.

Rhys was already having things sent to Jack’s address? Well that was fast.

Rhys had looked to the UPS worker like he was fucking Santa Claus, grabbed the package with eager fingers, blabbered out a thank you then slammed the door. Rhys whisked back through the living room grinning stupidly, hands exploring over the plain packaging fondly. Jack’s eyes had trailed Rhys curiously and when the kid had made to walk right by Jack without so much as a passing glance, Jack had cleared his throat in annoyance.

“You look like a teenager who just discovered there’s free porn on the internet kiddo. What’s in the package?” Jack had snarled casually stretching backward on the couch and tilting his head at the young man.

Rhys had stopped dead in the middle of the living room, eyes widening and mouth floundering open as he searched for words. His hands seemed to grip just a tad tighter on the package, eyes darting from it, to Jack, then back once more.

“O-Oh…i-it’s nothing just some stuff. Y’know. Stuff and things. That kind of stuff. Yup.” Rhys had stuttered his cheeks filling with that pink hue that only happened when the kid was woefully embarrassed, lying, or in the middle of having his brains fucked out.

Well since Jack wasn’t balls deep in the kid at the moment, that left two out of the three conclusions. He was embarrassed about whatever was in the package and he was _lying_. Jack didn’t take well to lying but before he could get off another word Rhys was already shuffling off down the hallway, completely avoiding Jack’s questioning.

Jack had been left on the couch absolutely confused beyond reason and a little annoyed, but he was pretty sure there was something in the ‘living with another human being’ instruction manual that specified not prying into the other partner’s business. There was a reason why Jack never read fucking instruction manuals.

The strange unmarked packages had then become a regular appearance at their shared front door. Sometimes when Rhys was home, other times when he was not. One of the times a box had showed up while Rhys was out having dinner with Vaughn and Yvette. Jack had gotten home from the office tired; ready for a long shower and some leftover chicken salad Rhys had informed him was stored in the back of the fridge. As Jack’s shoes had paused at the front door, keys in hand, he’d been greeted by an all too familiar brown box sitting so innocently by the door frame. Jack had scooped the stupid little package up in his broad fingers and shoved the door open with his shoulder. He’d dropped it on the coffee table without a second thought, scattering a trail of shed clothing in his wake as he made his way to the kitchen. Twenty minutes later bowlful of chicken salad in hand and beer to go with it Jack had eased himself down onto the couch, flicking on a movie to keep himself company while he ate…and that stupid little box had stared at him the entire time. Like it was _mocking_ him. Sitting there so brown and square and stupid. Jack had paused scooping the food into his mouth and eyeballed the little thing viciously. What the hell could be in there? What the hell would Rhys insist on avoiding telling Jack? Jack was pretty sure he could slice the tape open, see what was in it, and package it back up without Rhys ever knowing he’d opened it.

He was not going to open that fucking box.

Jack had slammed his bowl down on the coffee table, scooped up the box and moved it into the dining room where he didn’t have to _look_ at it.

The next incident had happened a month later. Jack lay stretched across the couch, winding down for the evening, his feet pressed against Rhys’ lap. The young man was huddled in the corner of the couch, laptop open, fingers scattering over the keys quickly. He peered over a pair of black rimmed glasses that belonged to Jack, bottom lip buried between his teeth in utter concentration. Jack tore his attention from the television and peered down the couch to the amber haired male. Rhys’ eyes were intense as he typed, completely enveloped in whatever was happening between him and that computer screen.

“Seriously kiddo don’t you ever stop working? I mean I love the enthusiasm…but y’know there’s a whole list of things we could totally be doing other than you staring at that stupid laptop.” Jack grumbled shifting his bare foot up under Rhys’ baggy shirt.

Rhys hissed and jumped at the cold contact and pushed Jack’s foot away.

“Jeezus Jack your feet are freezing! I-It’s not work I’m just…writing.” Rhys countered shooting Jack an annoyed look.

Jack rolled onto his back and flopped his leg over the back of the couch, right up by Rhys’ ear.

“Writing what? A bedtime story? No, no, no wait lemme guess you’re totally writing some kinky fanfiction huh? Like some shit with tentacles?” Jack sneered visibly enjoying getting a rise out of his younger counterpart.

Rhys tightened his bottom lip and huffed out in irritation, his demeanor conforming into something comparable to a bird with its feathers all ruffled up. Jack’s grin only widened at the other man’s expression.

“What? NO! Ew gross what kind of fanfiction do you read?? I’m not writing that kind of stuff…I’m…blogging.” Rhys said in a matter-of-fact kind of fashion.

Jack snorted and chuckled lowly throwing Rhys an absolutely dangerous smile.

“I read the good kind kiddo. Oh? Little Rhysie is a blogger, oh kiddo that’s adorable.” Jack sniggered hauling himself upward and scooting over to Rhys’ personal space.

“Watcha bloggin’ about? How much you’re obsessed with me?” Jack cooed leaning over the computer trying to get a look at the screen.

Rhys gasped and snapped the laptop shut loudly.

“No! N-No, i-it’s nothing you’d want to read. It’s dumb anyway.” Rhys defended his voice high and strained with embarrassment.

Jack paused halfway leaned over Rhys, eyes falling into scrutinizing little slits as he observed the blushing young man. Jack opened his mouth to protest but before he could get the words out Rhys grabbed the front of the other man’s shirt and shoved their lips together hard. Jack grunted against the younger’s mouth, eyes wide in surprise. He knew the kid was trying to distract him, but he couldn't help himself from lulling into the outburst wanting and needy. The blog didn’t matter that much anyway. That could wait. Fucking the kid into next Wednesday was by far more important. Light kisses turned into something far more frantic, hands pulled off baggy clothing and Rhys' laptop had slid right off the couch, plunking onto the floor with little care. By that time Jack had forgotten all about Rhys getting weirdly defensive about whatever he was writing on that computer. All that mattered then was his lips on Rhys’ throat and his hips pumping against the young man’s rear. Breaths came together hot and heavy, panting into each other’s personal space, Rhys’ bony ankles jabbing into Jack’s thighs, the young man writhing and arching up into Jack’s eager thrusts. It was good. So good. Jack forgot all about the stupid brown boxes for all of twenty minutes.

After all was said and done Jack lay panting and worn on top of Rhys, struggling for breath weakly, arms wrapped tight around the young man. Rhys’ eyes were closed, arms looped lazily around his partner’s neck, fingers playing absent mindedly in brunette locks. Jack kissed Rhys’ jaw line tiredly and gently eased himself off the couch. He sauntered into the kitchen, slowly slipped off the condom, tying it off skillfully then making to toss it into the trash. Jack had paused, staring down into the trashcan with displeased eyes. There were the leftovers of a ripped open…little brown box. Jack had grumbled under his breath, thrown the condom out and slammed the trashcan lid closed.

Three weeks later Jack had sunk right into the routine of constantly having someone else around the house every night. He even found himself looking forward to it. Coming home knowing there was a pretty, lithe little young man waiting for him was really something he could get used to. Rhys had cooked nearly every night that week and since he made it out of the office just a slight bit early today Jack was readying himself to return the favor. The older CEO swung his condo key around his index finger whistling lightly to himself as he sauntered toward the front door, a little spring clinging to his every step. Grocery bags hung off both his forearms, full of fixings for a fantastic steak dinner. He had the night all planned out, the kid had been working hard all week, coming home late and staying up even later finishing reports and spreadsheets. Jack felt a little guilty for working the young man so hard, but that was his boyfriend side speaking, his boss side countered that it was the kid’s job. Either or, a nice dinner, some wine and some dirty sex was exactly what the doctor had ordered. The kid deserved it.

Jack gently pressed the door open, pushing it closed with his foot pointedly. The older man rounded into the kitchen, spreading the bags out over the countertop noisily. He shrugged out of his jacket humming the catchy tune stuck up in his head cheerily, pausing to toss the coat over onto one of the barstools. He hit his mark and grinned cockily. He figured he’d slip into something more comfortable before diving headlong into cooking. His heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway rhythmically, one after the other as he went. He was halfway through undoing his tie and unbuttoning the front of his dress shirt when his eyes peered curiously at the slightly open door just a couple paces down from the master suite. The ‘junk room’ as Rhys had dubbed it. A room Jack had graciously given him where most of the things from his disaster zone of an apartment had ended up. Normally the door was left shut tight so Jack didn’t have to look at that overbearing mess…but today…today was different. Today they door hung open, cracked just enough for Jack to see the very edge of the guest bed situated very center of the room. And there, sitting pretty, half opened…was a brown box.

Jack paused in the doorway, feet planted to the floor firmly, eyes the size of dinner plates as his hands sat frozen on the silk of his tie.

Jack’s eyes flicked to his own bedroom, then to the pretty little _open_ brown box lying so teasingly on the puffy comforter of the extra bed. Jack could see that it was open, the normally taped together flaps popped wide, yawning outward in a fashion that Jack could swear was some form of invitation. Well, he takes it that way at least.

Jack swallowed thickly. He really shouldn’t snoop. He really shouldn’t look. But there it was, open no less, for him to see, just begging to be discovered, just begging for one small peek. Jack huffed out and ran a hand through his hair.

He was not going to look.

Jack curled his fingers around the door knob and slammed it shut, proceeding to his room, stripping off clothing left and right until he was stumbling out of his jeans and sliding off his dress socks. He stalked into the bathroom, splashing water onto his face irritably then exchanging his contacts for his cheaters. He looked into the mirror, his eyes wild and his mouth downturned.

He was not going to look.

Jack brazenly scratched his groin through his black boxer briefs and proceeded back toward the kitchen, half dressed and ready to start cooking a badass dinner. But again…his feet slowed as he came to the junk room door. Jack looked at the idle doorknob. He could swear it was just beckoning him in. Wanting him to look, wanting him to see.

He groaned out long and low.

What could it hurt? Rhys would never even know he’d looked. In and out, just a quick observation and then he would leave it alone. He just _had_ to know what in hells name was in those stupid little boxes. He’d tried to bury the curiosity, but it was just too much. The wanting to know was driving him absolutely insane. He had to know. He needed to know.

Jack ripped the heavy door open with a grumble and a sigh and headed into the room past the point of no return. Jack slowly approached the box like it was some exotic form of viper that could strike at any given moment. He could feel his heart thundering, gut twisting in a way that only further confirmed this was not something he should be doing, but he was going to go through with it anyway. Jack’s hands shivered a little as he grabbed the flaps of the box and folded them open.

Tissue paper. A lot of pretty, orange tissue paper. Jack could just make out the golden flecks infused into the soft looking decorative paper. Jack’s fingers slowly unfolded layer after layer of the tissue, careful not to make it look too tampered with or tear any of the paper. Finally he could just make out the outline of… _something._ Jack dipped his broad palm down into the box and allowed it to curl around the unfamiliar object curiously. Jack dragged it up out of the box after a quick look over his shoulder, paranoid that he could be caught red handed at any given moment. Jack’s eyes flicked back down to the task at hand and he felt all the breath leave him in one fleeting second…a…a dildo?

Jack snorted and clapped a hand over his mouth in amusement. Still wrapped in its clear plastic packaging was a gorgeous, silicone, rainbow dildo. A pretty sizable looking one to say the very least. Jack turned the thing over in his hands getting a good look at it. Well it had to be the _weirdest_ looking dildo he’d ever seen that was for damn sure. Jack couldn’t hold back his chortles as his eyes darted over the oddly shaped thing. It had a big mushroom shaped head, a shaft riddled with strange looking ridges and bumps, and a big bulbous knot looking extension placed right before the silicone balls.

Well it was definitely _not_ modeled after a human dick. Jack laughed even harder. Of all the things…it was a sex toy. A friggin sex toy.

Jack gently placed the interesting looking dildo back down into the box and his eyes settled over on the closet door. So…were all of the brown boxes dildos? No, certainly not. That was _a lot_ of toys. Why would Rhys need so many toys when he had Jack?

Jack’s lips downturned in a displeased fashion and he cautiously stalked over to the closet door, pulling it open and flicking the light on. Instantly the massive walk in closet was brought into brilliant clarity and Jack stood there with wide, stupid eyes, mouth hanging open just slightly. Wall to ceiling shelves all filled with every sex toy imaginable. Jack stumbled into the closet in awe.

Butt plugs, penetrables, vibrators, cock rings, and oh…dildos. Big dildos, little dildos, dildos that looked like tentacles, dildos that were hot pink, double ended dildos, dildos with suction cups stuck to walls, dildos made of glass, dildos made of wood. If Jack had to guess there was easily a couple hundred of the things stacked so majestically along the many shelves. The older man cocked a thin eyebrow at the impressive collection. But…why dildos?

There was a pang of something unsettling in his gut. Was he not doing his job or something and Rhys had simply failed to tell him? Maybe he sucked in the sack but Rhys was too nice to say anything?

No.

Handsome Jack was not bad in bed.

Jack was great in bed.

It was definitely not his performance that had spawned this ridiculous collection, he refused to believe that. Jack slowly reached out and touched one of the odd looking sex toys just to his left. It was bright purple, shaped like some weird form of a…tentacle. His digits ran over the silicone suction cups curiously. He suddenly found himself wondering what those would feel like… _inside_ of him.

Jack felt his throat go dry momentarily.

He allowed himself to pick the dildo up softly. The material felt even better in his palms, soft and pliable, but just firm enough to feel big and daunting within his hands. Jack squeezed the toy gently, feeling it give with the pressure, only to reform when he let up. He closed his eyes for a moment. He was not seriously considering trying out a fucking tentacle dildo…was he?

Yeah. He was.

He’d known Rhys was odd…but not _this_ odd. This…this was a whole new ballpark. But something about it had Jack’s face filling with color…and his cock filling with blood. Jack cursed down at his insistent erection pressed flush against his tight boxers. Jack looked to the open closet door then down to the ridiculous dildo in his palm.

Rhys wasn’t going to be home for another couple of hours at least. He had time if he really wanted to go through this. He looked down at the sizable dildo again. God the textures and the curve and the way it felt on his skin…fuck it was making him feel flushed in all the wrong ways and it had his heart thrumming against his ribs. He’d never seen a more enticing sex toy. Suddenly the question of why his partner had a massive collection of some of the weirdest sex toys the older man had ever seen didn’t exactly matter that much. All that mattered was that he wanted to try one. He had to feel one inside of him, and he needed it right then and there.

With his cheeks hot and his pulse thudding against his flesh he whisked out of the closet. After a short hunt for lubricant, he was flopping back onto the guest bed, leaving the door hanging wide with little regard for prying eyes. Rhys would never know. He’d just take this thing for a quick spin, clean up and be done with it…then figure out how to bring up the subject of Rhys’ odd collection at a later date. Jack could feel the warm flush creep across his cheeks, down his neck and settled across his broad chest. It felt wrong and it felt right and he was so hard it was beginning to leave him _aching._

The toy felt heavy in his hand, heavy and _right._

Jack expelled a desperate breath as he yanked his boxers down his legs kicking them off onto the edge of the bed. Jack propped his knees open sighing and letting his lids slide closed in anticipation. Fingers were slicked with lube and slowly he worked himself open hissing with the stretch, back arching up off the bed in a wanting fashion. His thick fingers pumped and curled into his own body, entrance fluttering and convulsing around digits, puckering stubbornly. Jack let loose of a heavy breath, the sound coming out pathetic and strained and god he was so glad nobody could see him like this. It was ridiculous how fucking _wrecked_ he already felt and he hadn’t even started into the good part yet. It was all the anticipation of it, the knowing that this was wrong and he shouldn’t be doing it but he was going to anyway. He felt like a bad child who’d found a stash of naughty magazines for the first time. God it was so good, fingers easing into himself wet and solid, the toy resting in his other hand only a reminder that it was going to get _even better._

His dick stands at full mast in front of him, red and dripping desperately even without so much as being touched. Pathetic. So pathetic. But in that moment he doesn’t care. His throat is flushed and his body is frantic and he feels _so good._

He removes his fingers, too eager to linger on preparation any longer. He pressed the slightly flared tip of the toy against his entrance and Jack cringed, expelling a hiss of breath as the head passed into him. The silicone was soft and smooth against him, causing his hips to leave the bed and sink down farther onto the toy. His hand was steady as it held onto the base of the dildo, pushing up and in as his body pressed downward. The tapered beginnings of the shaft gave way to a thick breadth that increased with every inch, girth widening harshly as he worked farther toward the base. Jack moaned out lowly his voice strained and high, certainly not a sound he’d be making if he wasn’t alone. But it’s just him and it is ok to simply fall apart shamelessly against the mattress.

He pumps the toy into himself, slick sounds of suction kissing at his ears pleasantly. He’s so far lost, body hot and moving against the toy so willingly. The texture of fake suction cups along the underside of the toy is stimulating and wonderful, the long tip successfully massaging against his prostate with ease. It just curves in all the right ways, it slides in so easy and he feels so goddamned _full._ He presses down harder, wanting to make it to the base of the toy, but he hits the widest point he can handle and he knows taking _all_ of the toy is out of the question…for now at least.

Jack’s breath comes in hot, heavy, unsatisfying pants, the air stifling around him, little beads of sweat pricking at his forehead. His hand is frantic as he pumps the toy into his puckered entrance, his cock flexing weakly with the lack of stimulation. But he wants to fully enjoy this. He wants this to last. He knows if he so much as runs one finger down his cock right now he’d be coming in a pathetic matter of seconds. He cringes and arches back into the dildo, turning his head to the side, lips red and wet with abuse from tongue and teeth. He can feel an excess of lubricant sliding down the insides of his thighs and he knows this is going to be a hell of a cleanup but he’s too deep in and he _needs_ this.

He is so painfully hard, head red and weeping, fat bead of pre forming at his tip only to roll down the underside of his shaft slow and easy. Everything is hot and good and even though his skin prickles with perspiration and he feels like he could melt right into the sheets he just can’t seem to worry about anything else but the wondrous feeling of being so damned _stretched._

“Jack?”

There’s a voice from the open doorway that causes Jack to stop dead.

Jack’s eyes fly open, meeting with familiar brown and blue as his young partner stands in the door, a look of sheer surprise plastered across his slender face.

“S-S-Shit Rhys…I uh…well…you are…home early…aren’t ya cupcake…?” Jack stutters scrambling up onto his elbows on the bed, still spread open and everything about him was absolutely _obscene._

Rhys just nods, and Jack pants into the air not knowing what action to take next.

“Well…I…um. I would say I can explain…but…uh…I really can’t…” Jack mutters in embarrassment.

Rhys just stands there for a few more seconds before frantic hands begin tugging his polo shirt up over his head then descend to rip his belt out of its loops. Rhys shimmies his jeans down nearly tripping out of them as he hurries across the room and crawls up onto the bed, on top of his pathetic partner.

“Rhys? What are you doing kiddo? You aren’t like…mad?” Jack questions as Rhys tugs his boxers off rendering him nude as well.

“Shut up Jack.” Rhys snarls before cramming their lips together hard, teeth clacking together on impact.

Jack audibly snarls against Rhys’ mouth and the young man knows the CEO isn’t pleased with the copped attitude. Rhys keeps him quite as their tongues slide together and mouths move in rhythm and Rhys bats Jack’s hand away from the toy, taking the reins eagerly. All Jack can do is moan against the kiss, back vaulting into the pleasure, cock throbbing weakly.

“I should have known you’d spring for the tentacle one.” Rhys hisses through a wide grin.

“O-Oh fuck you kiddo.” Jack counters boring down on the toy as Rhys thrusts it into him.

“My what a mouth Mr. Handsome Jack.” Rhys teases.

Jack writhes at the kid’s rebelliousness but in his state he doesn’t have the energy to ensue punishment. So he just goes with it. Lets the kid have his little moment.

Rhys pauses and seems to ponder for a moment before jumping off the bed, leaving Jack open and confused.

“Rhyssssie what the hell are you doing?” Jack whines from the comforters.

There’s the rustling of paper and the ripping of plastic and Rhys slides back over the mattress, the brand new rainbow looking dildo in hand, holding it with a sense of pride that is adorable in every sense of the word.

“Can we try out the new one?” Rhys asks leaving his dominant demeanor behind for a moment.

Jack grins up lazily from the bedding, flush still vibrant over his scarred face, all his pearly teeth unsheathing from behind puffy lips.

“Sure kiddo.” Jack sighs weakly.

Rhys slicks the new toy with careful fingers and gently pries the other from Jack’s body. The toy comes loose with a wet sound and a gasp from the older man and Rhys is quickly replacing it with the thick head of the newer silicone beauty. Jack moans and cries, leaning his head back as Rhys pumps it into him, the head and shaft moving in with ease, stopping only when he hits the fat, swollen, knot. Jack fists the sheets and hooks his leg over Rhys’ shoulder as the young man presses the toy in with more persistence, stretching a little at a time, working him open enough to take the widest point.

“Ah-AH F-Fuckkkkk…” Jack groans languidly, body moving slow and pathetically needy.

"S-S-SHIT!!! Rhys!! I-I can't take it!!" Jack cries weakly but Rhys' hand doesn't still and the grin spread across the kid's lips is worrying to say the least.

"Shh...relax." Rhys shushes soothingly.

Jack lurches forward as the widest point pushes into his body with a pop, puckered flesh finally taking in the bulbous section, his voice high and strained. Rhys grins and runs his thumb around the red, worried flesh, toy held firmly in place by Jack’s tight ring.

"There we go." Rhys praises softly eyes viciously pleased.

With that Rhys was stalking over Jack’s panting form, and applying lube to his own back entrance. Rhys sank down onto Jack’s dripping cock, yanking a strangled noise up from the disheveled CEO. Jack’s hands snapped to Rhys’ hips as the young man threw his head back, groaning and grinning wildly. Jack was torn between the glorious sensations of the toy firmly inserted in his back entrance and the lithe man now riding his over stimulated cock. He was pretty sure he’d never felt anything more intense. It was so vicious and real and overwhelming.

Jack’s lips curled around the syllables of Rhys’ name crying them like some sort of desperate prayer. Rhys seemed to feed off the CEO’s pitiful sounds, riding harder, grinding down and rocking forward skillfully. Jack’s big palm curled around Rhys’ own livid erection, determined not to leave the kid un-pleasured as his own finish crept up his spine. He wasn’t going to last much longer, orgasm nipping at his heels mercilessly.

Rhys arched into the older man’s grip, Jack’s pace quick and mean, stroking hard velvet flesh relentlessly. Jack paused to spit into his hand, then went back to sliding his thick hand down Rhys’ shaft, the wet sensations bringing a whole new wave of pleasure to the young man.

Jack came with a yell and a hard thrust of hips, burying himself to the hilt in his partner’s ass. He gave a few more halfhearted humps, sighing and mewling as his cock expelled into the tight space provided. Rhys shuddered into the wet rush of Jack finishing within him, a trickle of fluid running down the inside of his leg lazily. With help from Jack’s persistent hand Rhys wasn’t far behind, coming through thick fingers, ropes of finish stringing between his tip and Jack’s heaving chest.

Rhys panted Jack’s name, eyes rolling back in his skull, mouth hanging slack as he jerked and shivered into Jack’s fingers, riding out the last bits of his hard orgasm.

Rhys slowly hefted himself off of his partner, flopping to the side of Jack, panting up at the ceiling tiredly. Jack cringed as he bore down on the toy, hand helping to ease it out of his overworked entrance. The toy came away with a sputter and a squelch, leaving Jack to pulsate around air, feeling thoroughly fucked and utterly satisfied.

There were no words between the two men, just heavy pants and labored breaths, both left wrecked and pleasured. Rhys slowly rolled over onto his side, eyes playing over Jack’s form, a slim smile spreading out over his lips.

Jack looked at him through tired, slightly parted lids and grinned back.

“Ok kiddo. First off sorry for snooping, but good god kid what in hells name is up with the weird toy collection?” Jack husked chuckling lightly.

Rhys just shrugged sheepishly and nuzzled into Jack’s neck softly.

“I run an online sex toy blog. I do reviews and recommendations, companies send me their products, I try them and review them…and it’s sorta become a little hobby…collecting cool toys and all…” Rhys replied giggling shyly.

Jack cocked an eyebrow at him and snorted loudly.

“Well…that…that is really something kiddo.” Jack chuckled running his fingers through Rhys’ hair.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Rhys egged smiling.

Jack shook his head and laughed harder.

“Kiddo, everything about you is so damned weird, this included. But oh man sign me the fuck up.” Jack growled turning over and kissing down Rhys’ throat.

Rhys giggled and curled in on his bigger partner.

“Well…since you were kinda the one to try out this new toy…wanna help me write a review on it?” Rhys questioned cheerily.

Jack nodded slowly.

“Let’s get cleaned up and then sure thing kiddo, let’s write us a badass toy review…because I gotta admit…that was pretty awesome.” Jack snarled teasingly.

From then on the arrival of the little brown boxes became an exciting event, both boys eager to rip the plain packaging open and greet the new arrival to the collection.

Rhys was an odd kid.

And Jack had to admit that was what he loved most about the weird, lanky young man.

**Author's Note:**

> This story sparked from my own love for collecting and reviewing dildos because I'm gross lol. I just couldn't not write this story because Rhys would totally do this. ahahah sorry for my shenanigans oh man XD


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